Veritas Fidem et Honostatem Praestat
by Memon93
Summary: Sometimes, truth is all that matters.


**Aloha to you!**

**Finally, my latest Drarry. Ah, Veritas :)**

**I hope you like this, it's a bit fluffy at the end, but meh. And there's just a teeny bit of Ginny bashing :D YAY!**

**Have fun :)**

* * *

Veritas Fidem et Honestatem Praestat

_Truth Surpasses Loyalty and Honour_

Harry stared at the ceiling. A spider was crawling across the top of one of his bedposts, its shadow enlarged grotesquely by the moonlight. It stumbled occasionally, catching itself on the delicate ribbons of protective gossamer that hung over the bedpost like a discarded item of clothing. As Harry watched, the spider scaled the oak beam and began climbing vertically up the wall, dodging cracks and unsmoothed blobs of plaster and paint, until it disappeared through a tiny hole in the ceiling.

A heavy _clonk_ brought him crashing back to reality. Ginny was on top tonight. For all her _femaleness, _she was damn strong.

The bed hit the wall again and Harry screwed his eyes shut. He felt lips press against his, a curious tongue meeting a padlocked door. Ginny pulled back undeterred and resumed their 'love-making'.

Not that it wasn't love-making, in a sense. Harry blinked his eyes open and studied her, bouncing up and down on his hips. Her freckled face was flushed and slightly shiny from sweat, her hair falling in curls about her shoulders. The tawny eyes were closed in...what, pleasure? Harry suspected so. She was still irrevocably in love with him, and obviously getting something from their bouts of sex, unlike him. His eyes followed the pale skin curving nicely into full hips and a slim waist, meeting Quidditch player thighs, her thrusting making her small breasts jiggle. With a tiny pang of humour, he wondered how she failed to notice his lack of..._involvement_.

Harry looked to the side and bit his lip. He told himself he should be making an effort. But, he had been making an effort for so long, he _had_ been trying... It wasn't that he didn't _like_ Ginny, he did, but...well, that was just it - but what? She was fun to be with, pretty, of sorts, a great Quidditch player...

With a tiny sigh, he realised for the millionth time that this was never going to fix itself. And, for the millionth time, Ginny would keep thrusting away until she got bored or came or whatever. Reluctantly, he slipped into his usual fantasy with terrible ease.

_The familiar lips crashed against his. Harry moaned into the kiss and grabbed his partner's neck, bringing them brilliantly closer. He was always with the same person in the dream, nameless, faceless. His moan was lost amid the tangle of tongues and teeth, the kiss that should never be described as a kiss, more a fierce battle for supremacy involving lips and hands and spit, so hard it left lips swollen and bruising._

_He was swung round and he hit the wall painfully, his head lolling backwards. Whimpering at the loss, the other person brought Harry's hands above his head and latched teeth to his exposed neck. There, they sucked and nipped at his ears, soothing the skin that protected Harry's racing pulse. Harry could feel his erection straining through his robes, crying for attention, pressed hard into the other's thigh. With a tender kiss, and rumbling snigger, his partner bucked against him. Harry groaned and pulled away, tugging on soft hair, mashing mouths together for another hungry kiss._

_Harry could always hear the same low growling, right before...yes. His robes were torn open and his trousers torn down. Plunging hands found his desperate cock and Harry stifled his own shout with a mouthful of shoulder. His partner chuckled and smirked, kneeling into Harry's boxers and massaging the growing patch of wet. Harry's head clinked back against the wall again and he shut his eyes, his senses going into overload._

_The cold air stung his erection as his boxers pooled around his ankles. Long fingers were there in an instant, caressing and stroking. Harry swore. After a minute, the fingers were replaced by a gentle tongue, licking once up his shaft. His body convulsed, he felt the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. Too soon. With a wanton groan, he thrust his hips forward, but was stilled by one hand on his thigh. He heard a laugh from below him. Then, torturously slowly, his cock was swallowed into tight, engulfing heat. He swore again and bucked against the strong hand, the fire burning in his belly. Too close. _

_The end always came too quickly for Harry. The person below him sucked hard and Harry felt his release surge upwards. His eyes widened and he stared into the open face of his partner. Two gorgeous grey eyes were always gazing back at him. Two, stunning, molten mercury, masculine eyes..._

Harry came then. He woke up like this alarmingly often, the same dream sending him screaming over the edge, shooting ribbons of white into the bed covers, but, his mind realised dimly, this didn't feel like bed covers.

As he rode out his orgasm, Harry arched his back and gripped the sheets, groaning and swearing and shouting one phrase. One tiny collection of insignificant words that condemned him indefinitely, one horrifying phrase, the product of his deepest and darkest thoughts, that ripped from his ravaged vocal chords as he collapsed back into his Gryffindor dormitory four poster, his girlfriend, reality.

"Ah fuck, DRACO!"

Nothing happened for at least thirty seconds. As Harry's mind frantically tried to cobble together some semblance of order, two thoughts came to him. One was, 'I haven't come that hard in ages' and the other was 'shit, I said that out loud'.

The sudden, intense burning in his left cheek made his eyes fly open. Ginny was shouting, her face more flushed than before. With a shriek, she brought her other hand down hard on Harry's nose, in a crushing left hook. Harry cried out then and his brain caught up.

"_Draco_?! Why the fuck did you say Draco?!"

Harry blinked up at her as she threw open the bed curtains, clambering off him and rooting around for her clothes. He thanked Merlin for Silencing Charms.

"Oh don't you dare ignore me Harry James Potter!"

Harry blinked again. "I'm not-" His voice sounded so small.

"And don't make up any stupid excuses! I've worked for weeks to get this one night together and _this_ is how you treat me? Oh no...don't give me that look. Don't think I haven't noticed. You avoid me like the plague, it's like you don't want to have sex with me! Ha! Well now we know why, don't we?"

Ginny yanked on her knickers, casting a quick Cleaning Charm on her nether regions, her hair flying everywhere. With a furious torrent of profanities, she located her wand, still shouting meaningless words at Harry in a weird one-sided argument.

For a fleeting moment, Harry thought she might hex him, but instead, she charmed all of her clothes back on and stood glaring at him, her arms folded tightly, her hair like flames.

He opened his mouth to speak but no noise came out.

"Don't bother," Ginny mumbled.

"I...I'm really-"

"Sorry? Yeah, so am I." She shook her head, muttering inaudibly. "Y'know Harry, all these months that you've been avoiding me, I thought it was stress or something. The War, being the Saviour, everyone that died, I don't know..."

Harry sank further into his bedclothes, praying to be anywhere else.

"But now, I've finally found out what was up. All this time, you didn't want _me_, you didn't want your girlfriend of over a year, oh no, you wanted Malfoy, that filthy, Slytherin piece of shit. All this time, the famous Harry Potter, the Boy Who Fucking Lived has been a motherfucking faggot!"

Harry flinched.

"Harry Potter likes cock! Who would've guessed?"

"Ginny," Harry started, his blood starting to pound in his ears. He realised with a jolt, she had lifted her Silencing Charm. The open curtains gave him a clear view of the rest of the dorm, Ron shifted in the bed next to his. In between Ginny's bouts of anger, the silence of Hogwarts night was deafening.

Ginny made a strange noise, like a snarl. "You make me sick," she spat, turning on her heel and marching towards the door. She paused at the handle, turning back towards Harry lying naked on his bed, frozen like a rabbit in headlights.

With a peal of cackling laughter, she scowled at him, eyes glinting maliciously. Harry noticed that tears were cascading down her cheeks. "Clean yourself up," she jeered, "you look bloody ridiculous." And with that, she left.

Guilt and anger poured over Harry, scolding him like boiling water. If he had only kept his emotions in check, this would never have happened. Who was he kidding? It was bound to happen sooner or later. This had been going on for months. But, Draco? Draco Malfoy? Although he had replayed that scene over and over in his head countless times, he had never been able to name the mysterious figure that was able to undo him so easily. Weirdly, it seemed to make sense.

Sure, Malfoy was his mortal enemy and all that crap, but ever since 6th year, their fights had become almost _tiresome_, as though neither could be bothered anymore. He sighed. With a dull pang in his chest, he remembered the day he had found out that the person in his dream was male. And what better male to dream about than the Slytherin Ice Prince himself? He told himself it made sense. It did...

His wand lay on the bedside table along with his glasses. He cast a Cleaning Charm, siphoning away semen from himself and his bed, and blood from his nose. It didn't feel broken.

A chill swept over him, making him shiver. The silence really was crushing. He looked around hurriedly; no one else was awake, amazingly - Ginny could get very loud when she was angry. Well, she had every reason to be angry. No, she didn't need to say those things...

_I'm not gay_, he thought desperately.

Harry's conscience battled as he climbed back into his bed and pulled the curtains shut. Half midnight, classes tomorrow. He sighed again and sank into his pillow, fatigue and guilt and horrible confusion washing over him, preparing him for the unavoidable onslaught tomorrow and sending him into a deep, troubled sleep full of yelling redheads and godlike hands that made him want to scream.

The spider on the ceiling descended on a strand of silk, floating through the air like a tiny brown snowflake. It reached the floor and paused, listening. Then, it scuttled across the flagstones and disappeared under the doorframe.

***

"Ah, fuck, Draco..."

What time was it? Half past twelve? Draco shifted slightly, releasing the pressure on his complaining elbow, his wrist flicking lazily up and down, up and down. Monday tomorrow and what...double potions? Gryffindors at nine in the morning, hoo-bloody-ray.

Blaise moaned and Draco looked up at him. His face was lolling back on the pillow covered in a sheen of sweat, his eyes closed, his mouth open. Draco turned away.

What was this for again? Oh...something about Blaise being distracted by Draco's 'completely fuckable' arse in Charms this morning. Obviously, _this_,this jerking-off business was punishment for being in possession of such a delectably distracting posterior. Or whatever. Well, Blaise was enjoying himself. _Even if I'm not_, thought Draco bitterly. His own cock was well and truly uninterested.

A hand clasped the back of his neck and he nearly flinched away. Rough fingers played with the downy hairs at the nape of his neck, pushing his head gently but insistently lower. Draco sighed audibly and crawled down Blaise's body, taking his hand away from the oozing erection.

He heard Blaise hiss at the lack of contact and sighed again, aligning his jaw with the other boy's hips.

"Malfoy, please," Blaise whimpered. So shameless...He registered the use of his surname.

Draco looked at Blaise's cock standing proudly amid a bed of dark curls. Handsome, he had to admit, but completely unwanted. Draco's mind winced away; _just imagine it's someone else..._

But there was only one 'someone else'. And that was a road Draco refused to walk down.

"Draco...I need-" There he was, moaning wantonly like some incapable whore. "Suck me, please."

Merlin's balls. As if Blaise couldn't get off with some other random Slytherin of an evening, male or female, _anyone,_ but no, it had to be Draco. _Maybe_, he thought without humour, _I could transfigure my arse into looking terrible, completely un-fuckable, whatever that is. But, I don't know what an ugly arse looks like... Longbottom's isn't that great-_ Draco mentally slapped himself.

"Dray?" Blaise looked up expectantly.

"Hmm?"

"Are you gonna suck me off or am I going to have to do it myself?"

Draco was highly dubious that that was even biologically possible.

"Oh...no, I'll..." He hated his voice sounding so useless and small. _You're a Malfoy damn it! Just suck the man's dick!_

With an inward cringe, ignoring the complete contradiction he had just created in his head, Draco tilted his neck lower, his lips hovering inches from Blaise's weeping erection. He heard the intake of breath above him and..._ Just imagine it's someone else..._

Nothing. They lay there, breathing for atleast half a minute, neither moving, Draco's face contorted into a look of disgust and resentment.

Then Blaise sat up suddenly, jerking violently in that way people do when they're _very_ angry. He swung his legs over the edge of Draco's bed and tore the curtains apart, standing and locating his boxers. Draco blinked.

"Seriously Malfoy, for fuck's sake! What is going on with you?" he cried, pulling on his underwear and trousers. Draco closed his mouth; it had fallen open without him knowing.

"I...what?"

"What the fuck is wrong?" Blaise was glaring viciously, not at all in the manner of someone who actually wanted to know what was wrong. More like someone who would shoot to kill.

Draco blinked again. He sat up slowly from his position on the bed and crawled towards his pillows where he stayed, watching Blaise get dressed and fiddling with a stray stitch on the seam of the duvet. "Blaise, I don't-"

Blaise sat down beside him with such force, the bed bounced and Draco had to grab the bedpost to stay sitting. Blaise sighed and put two long fingers to his temples. Then he yelled towards the door, "Parkinson!"

"Shut it Zabini, it's bloody midnight!" Draco cast a look around the room, Theodore Nott was snoring loudly, but no-one else made any sign of being alive, let alone asleep.

"It may be, but my cock is _painfully_ hard, and I can't be arsed to take care of it myself."

_Bloody hell, find some decency..._

"Now, for the love of Salazar Draco, are you going to tell me what the hell is up with you, or shall I do it myself?" Draco wouldn't meet his gaze.

"I'm...I'm tired alright? I don't feel like _pleasuring_ you...I'm not your fucking whore."

Blaise snorted.

"Surprisingly, I have a life outside your arse. I've got other things to think about," Draco murmured, glaring. The dormitory suddenly felt very cold and very small. He traced the stripes on his pyjama bottoms.

"Like Potter?" Blaise's tone was blank, not accusing or jeering or sickened or shocked or anything. Draco gaped at him. _Potter?!_

"What? Potter?! What the hell does _he_ have to do with anything?" Draco's voice gave him away; it shook and leapt up a few octaves, hitching on that particular name. "It may interest you to know, _Blaise_; the fucking _Saviour of the Wizarding World_ has nothing to do with-"

"Oh shut up." Blaise crept closer to him and Draco could clearly see the extent of his 'problem' through his trousers. Draco's brow furrowed. "I've _heard_ you."

Draco swallowed, his mind racing to every conceivable moment when Blaise could have _heard_ him. His spells had been meticulous, no one could have... "You've _heard_ me?"

"In the shower wanking, with me, in bed - you say his name in your sleep and wake up hard, I know you do, and Merlin, even that one time in Potions!"

Blaise laughed at the expression on Draco's face. Potions?! Draco winced. He remembered it well... Potter had been making a complete and utter fool of himself failing to create a potion that could re-grow fingernails. It had been entirely His fault that Draco found himself agonisingly hard at the back of the classroom...with that stupid sexy smile and stupid hair that never laid flat and stupid nonexistent Potions ability and stupid stupid _stupid_ dazzling green eyes. Draco had never come without touching himself before then...

"You don't know what you're talking about Zabini. None of this is true," Draco's voice said, separate from his thoughts. Blaise sniggered.

"Just because you can't admit something because of your pride or honour or whatever doesn't mean it isn't true," Blaise said with an absent minded look at his groin, the lump growing even more prominent, if that were possible.

"You're wrong."

"I'm right and you know it. You've barely let me touch you recently."

"What do you think I am, your personal sex slave? Well you can piss off."

"You know what this is Malfoy," Blaise gestured between them, "the point stands." Draco growled.

"It's...stress."

"No. It's Potter. You won't touch me because I'm not him."

Draco felt about an inch tall, like the whole little cocooned world he had created was collapsing in on itself. It wasn't true. He _hated_ Potter, hated him with a vengeance that made him want to scream. They were arch enemies. _But hate can be very close to love..._ He mentally punched himself in the head. Besides, he was Draco Malfoy. What would people think? He'd be just another Potter fangirl. The Prophet would have a field day. And then, there was the problem with his parents... But it wasn't true, so that didn't matter...

"You're wrong Zabini," said Draco, his voice stronger. He stood from the bed, picking up his wand as he did so, twirling it through his long fingers. Hexing Blaise's balls off would be messy; he would end this the dignified, Malfoy way. "I don't know what you think, to be honest, I don't care. Harry Fucking Potter has nothing to do with me, nor do I want anything to do with him. Now, I apologise for what happened tonight, but if you could please leave? I'd like to be left alone."

Blaise looked at him, not unkindly. He smiled slightly and then stood up. "I'd like you to know," he said, his dark eyes fixing Draco with a long stare, "I don't mind if you like Potter, which I know you do." Draco opened his mouth but Blaise spoke again. "But seriously mate, sort it out, 'cause I miss your lips round my shaft."

"Leave me alone."

Blaise knotted his eyebrows and spoke quieter then. "Draco, you have always been alone."

With that, he turned and headed towards the door. He reached for the handle, but the door swung inwards before he touched it. A girl, scantily dressed, bounced into the room, smiling out of the corner of her mouth.

"Blaise?" Pansy asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Parkinson."

"I heard you call me..." she said, her voice obscenely high.

"Yeah like 10 minutes ago," Blaise grunted. He took Pansy by the shoulder and steered her out of the door, giving Draco a sideways glance. "Come on Pans, I've got a little problem I need help with."

***

The Great Hall was much quieter than usual. People talked in lowered voices over pumpkin juice, trying to conceal themselves behind their copies of the Prophet so as not to be noticed. The Slytherin table was a sea of smirks, occasionally erupting into raucous shouts of mirth. Ravenclaw were sympathetic, Hufflepuff tried not to get involved, and Gryffindor...

Ginny Weasley sat at one end of the House table, closest to the teachers, casually eating a slice of buttered toast. She was gesturing flagrantly with her free hand, sending her surrounding friends into fits of giggles. Every so often, one of them would shoot a glance up the table, only to be hushed and waved at by her friends before exploding into more shrieking laughter.

The whole school would know by now. Quite deliberately, after finishing her breakfast, Ginny fixed her eyes on the boy at the other end of the table, his hair even more messy than it normally was. He was calmly sipping coffee and pretending to read the newspaper.

Hermione noticed first and shot Ginny the evilest look she could muster. The redhead turned away and joined her friends' cackling.

With a sad sigh, Hermione reached across the table and caught Harry's hand. She stroked it gently and smiled. He looked at her, his eyes refocusing behind his glasses and tried to smile back. A ripple of whispers spread from the table. "I'm here for you Harry," she whispered, leaning in closer.

"Thanks," he replied, keeping his eyes firmly on the pages of the Prophet.

Ron hadn't come down for breakfast. Hermione said that he'd see sense at some point and Harry tried to believe her. She had greeted him alone that morning, Ginny apparently having told the entire house about his bedroom exclamation. Of course, the news spread like wildfire and Harry was drowned in whispers and stares and pointing as soon as he got up. It was barely half past eight.

Suddenly, the Slytherins became a howling mass of laughter. Harry looked up and saw one seventh year proudly taking applause for his joke. His housemates roared, some turning to look at Harry and jeer. Harry recognised some of them, Blaise Zabini and Gregory Goyle, next to them sat Zacharias Smith, who was wiping his eyes and choking on his mouthful of breakfast. Along from him sat Malfoy, who, Harry realised with a jolt, wasn't laughing. This puzzled him, but he looked away before anyone could notice.

Draining the last of his coffee, his second mug, Harry stood up from the table. "I can't take this 'Mione," he said quietly, the Hall falling even more silent than before. The air seemed to crackle. Hermione cast him a worried stare but he ignored it.

_I've dealt with worse than this,_ he thought bitterly, grabbing his school bag and heading towards the double doors. Countless eyes followed him.

"Ah Draco," a voice shouted high and moaning, "Fuck DRACO!"

Harry stopped. He turned towards the sniggering Slytherins, his hand already closed around the wand inside his robes. His eyes met those of Zacharias Smith, who laughed. "Where you off to Potter?" he drawled, loud enough for the whole Hall to hear. "Off for a good wank? Well, Draco's right here, if you want him to help."

Harry's fingers drew his wand, a dozen hexes on his lips when- "ENOUGH!"

At first, he thought it was a teacher, Snape come to break up the impending fight, but, as Harry turned to the voice's source, he saw Draco Malfoy, one hand braced on the table, his wand pointed directly at Smith's heart.

Teachers flocked then, like a swarm of locusts. Harry was rooted in place, his wand in hand, his mouth open. Smith gave Malfoy a strange look, a mixture of shock and revulsion. Malfoy seemed to blink himself back to reality and sat down heavily, thoroughly appalled at what he had just done. Hot prickling pink covered his cheeks.

The Hall erupted into conversation. Amidst the resulting chaos of teachers and students, Hermione hurried over to Harry, took his hand, and walked with him to their first lesson, Potions.

***

The resulting fortnight passed without much incident. Harry avoided Draco at all costs, going as far as cancelling a friendly Quidditch match so he didn't have to play opposite him. Draco was fine with this arrangement. He passed off the Great Hall fiasco as 'not wanting to give Smith ideas' which the Slytherins seemed to accept, realising how Draco wouldn't want Smith using his good name as a weird part of Potter's warped fantasies.

Draco didn't plan on admitting that his own warped fantasies featured Potter very often. Of course, most of the more intuitive Slytherins knew he was gay, but that was about as much as they could handle. Adding 'Gay, but for the Saviour of the Wizarding World' to that list of information would surely result in mess. Sticky, ostracising, Howlers from parents, mess.

Draco sighed. The day was ending. He was sitting on the floor of the Astronomy Tower, leaning against the invisible magical barriers that prevented anyone from falling over the edge. Or being pushed, for that matter. He shuddered inwardly. His back faced the expanse of the Hogwarts grounds, the Quidditch pitch, the Forbidden Forest, the Lake; all rendered a strange shade of pinkish orange in the waning light. Smoke trailed upwards against the setting sky, a tiny plume rising lazily from Hagrid's chimney. He stretched the muscles in his back and took a swig of Firewhisky.

It was very good Firewhisky. Vintage, incredibly expensive. For the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was doing in his Hogwarts trunk. Maybe he'd stolen it from the Manor after his parents had been forced to leave. Who knew? He took another draught and set the bottle aside.

A light breeze ruffled his hair, not gelled like it usually was. He ran a hand through it and loosened his tie, shrugging off his robes as he did so. It was pleasant up here, away from all the hype and chaos that was Hogwarts. He had only come back for the optional eighth year because he had nowhere else to go. Maybe it was the wrong decision. There wasn't really that much worth coming back for, just painful memories...

Well there was one thing. Draco sighed again and reached for the bottle. The Boy Who Refused To Die. Twice. Potter, the one person who haunted his every thought and would not leave him or his overactive imagination be. The only person able to send Draco hurtling over the metaphorical edge without even realising he was close to it in the first place.

It was a year since the War had ended and Potter was more famous than ever. A whole year of freedom. Well no, Draco didn't feel free at all. Blaise was right, he was alone.

And then just at that precise moment, he wasn't. A noise from the stairway made him look up, his hand going for his wand immediately. _Why?_ he wondered, _it's not like Voldemort's going to leap round the corner..._ A figure emerged from the stairs and upon recognising him, Draco wished it was Voldemort instead.

"Oh...sorry, Malfoy...I didn't-"

"It's alright, Potter."

Potter shuffled his feet nervously, quite un-Potterlike. His hair was perpetually untidy, his face pulled into an apologetic smile. Draco looked up at him and their eyes met for the first time in weeks. _Damn..._

"Why are your eyes so _green_?" he asked, his brows furrowed. Potter looked taken aback, but regained his composure, a startled smirk playing on his lips.

"Genetics?" he said.

"They're infuriating," said Draco, wondering why he ever thought it was a good idea to get pissed on Firewhisky when people such as Potter could be lurking around the corner. Potter raised his eyebrows. "Sit down," said Draco, "you're clouding the view."

"The view of the stairs?" Potter shot him a confused look, but crossed the room and sat down, looking outwards across the grounds.

"Yes, the stairs." Draco realised he was being uncharacteristically civil. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a spell at Potter's back. "Expellia-"

"Protego." Potter countered it without even blinking. Turning his body to face Draco, he surveyed him with knotted eyebrows. "What was that for?" he asked. Draco put his wand back in his robe pocket.

"I was just checking you were on your guard..." Draco said, not looking at Potter and that cock-hardening _stupid_ stare of his. "It isn't often that you find Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter having a conversation that doesn't involve hexes."

Harry laughed. They were indeed having a conversation. How strange. Without a word, Malfoy slid something over to him. It looked like a bottle of Firewhisky. He picked it up, read the label and gasped. "Seriously? This stuff is like 50 galleons a glass!"

"Well then don't waste any," Malfoy said, still avoiding his gaze. Even Draco was surprised by his gesture. He watched from the corner of his eye as Harry sipped at the drink and then took a bigger swallow, liking the look of those lips closed around the bottle neck.

Harry took another mouthful of Firewhisky and grinned. He slid the bottle back and Draco swallowed some too. Dimly aware that Malfoy had just touched his saliva, Harry sighed and stared out at the grounds. "Still," he said, more to himself than Draco, "it isn't often that _situations_ like this arise."

The word 'arise' made Draco chuckle, or was it the alcohol? Anyway, he laughed. He hadn't laughed in days. With a tiny glance downwards, he grimly acknowledged that his body wasn't lying; he did in fact have an erection. _Arise..._he thought wryly. "Damn you Potter..." he muttered under his breath. How could he elicit such a reaction without doing anything? It was Potions all over again. "So," he said, regaining composure, "what brings you to the Astronomy Tower?"

Potter looked at him and Draco caught a sliver of emerald before he turned away, fiddling with the cuff of his jumper. "I came to get away from everything," Harry mused, staring at Draco's averted head, "but, it seems, I just found it again..."

Draco chuckled to his sleeve. Potter wasn't denying anything; he was basically confessing that everything was true. But, what if it was? It didn't matter.

"And you?" Harry continued to stare down Draco's temples.

"Same," Draco said, "to get away."

The minutes passed in silence, the shadows on the ground getting longer with every second. Draco downed some more of the Firewhisky and gave the rest to Harry, who finished it in one. Draco's throat burned and, as he swallowed, a new sense of determination washed over him. _I will get what I want tonight, _he thought, _I need to know if it's true... _His head snapped up and gazed towards Potter, sitting in the corner, hugging his knees.

"Thanks, by the way." Potter's velvet voice.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you...for the other day. At breakfast. I swear I could have hexed Smith's balls inside out..." Harry said, tracing patterns on the stone floor. He looked up to see Draco smiling at him. It was a nice smile, he thought, Draco had...nice teeth...and _who am I kidding shag me now_ pink lips. Not to mention the eyes...

"Oh," said Draco. His heart did an annoying leap. "It was nothing..." _Where has my eloquence got to?_

"Why did you do it?"

"Because..." Draco started. He laughed nervously. _Oh what the hell. _"Because I know what it feels like for people to have an opinion of you, and then for that opinion to be shattered by a few insignificant words." _Like, "I'm gay..."_

"Ah..." said Harry.

"We're more alike than you think, Potter." Harry laughed. "It's true."

"How do you figure?" Harry asked, his head cocked to the side slightly.

"As reluctant as I am to admit it, we have much in common," said Draco pensively. "We're both very much in the spotlight, you and I. We're both of noble birth, although, maybe we didn't desire the fame and fortune that came with it."

Harry said nothing, so Draco continued. "We've both had _destinies_, for want of a better word. Paths that were set out for us that we have had to follow, no matter whether _we_ wanted to follow them or not."

_Me, destined to save the world. Draco, destined to work for the most evil wizard of all time,_ thought Harry_. _

Again, Harry was silent for a few moments. He stared at a point over Draco's head, a tiny smile on his lips. "This is odd, coming from you," Harry said, "my 'arch enemy'." He sniggered.

"I suppose it is. Maybe it's the drink."

Draco knew it wasn't the Firewhisky. Potter had always had to be his enemy, from that first day of Hogwarts. But somewhere along the line, in the midst of the heartache and the bitterness and the hate, that plan had gone awry.

Some more minutes passed. "So, if you don't mind me asking," said Draco, a phrase that had never been uttered in a conversation between Potter and Malfoy. "Is it true? What the Weaselette said?" Harry laughed without humour. _Why does he sound like he actually cares?_

"Ginny? Why do you want to know? Draco raised an eyebrow. "We're not best buddies Malfoy, despite being able to share a normal conversation," Harry's tone was irritated. He looked down with a sharp exhale.

"Come off it Potter," Draco said. Harry didn't look at him. "I think I, of all people, deserve to know the truth." Draco's mind span slightly, he could hear his own laughter ringing in his ears, but his mouth stayed shut. _He isn't denying it...it must be true... _He stifled a smile.

"Why? After fighting Dark Wizards for my entire life, I've managed to learn that the truth only hurts people," Harry said. "No-one actually cares about the truth as it is in my eyes; they just want a good story to tell their mates."

"Another belief we have in common..." Draco mused. Harry picked at his thumb nail angrily.

"And then there's my whole reputation to think about-"

"Potter. Veritas Fidem et Honestatem Praestat," said Draco. He shuffled forwards...with a plan. Harry sighed.

"And what does that mean?"

"It means," Draco smiled, "Truth surpasses loyalty and honour."

Harry turned away from the view of the grounds, only slightly surprised at how close Draco suddenly was. He could see the tiny flecks of blue in his grey eyes and the translucent tips of his eyelashes.

Draco gazed at him and rolled his eyes. "It means, fuck reputation, fuck friends and family and nobility, fuck saving the world. All that matters is what you feel in your heart. What you think is right and true."

Harry couldn't look away. He could feel his cheeks burn as Draco's eyes raked his every feature, lingering on his parted lips. That was an oddly _beautiful_ sentiment coming from Malfoy, his arch nemesis, Slytherin Prince, Death Eater extraordinaire._ But he's changed...and so have I._

"I just thought you'd like to know that, before I do what I'm going to do next," Draco continued, shifting his sitting position to his knees. With a sudden jolt, Harry noticed the lump in the front of Draco's slacks. He blushed fully and his breathing hitched momentarily. _Does this mean...?_ "Because, it could really go one of two ways," Draco said, watching Harry's Adam's apple jar as he swallowed thickly. "If what that Weasel slut Ginevra said is a complete and utter lie, you probably won't enjoy this." Draco's smile became a smirk. He unfolded his hands and flexed his fingers. "But, if she was telling the truth, if you in fact did scream out my name while she shagged you..."

Harry gulped. His chest was rising and falling heavily. He blinked into the steel eyes that had plagued his dreams for so long. _It's the alcohol, it isn't him..._

"Well then, you might enjoy this...quite a lot." Draco sat on his haunches and ran his eyes up Harry's frame. He stuck to the groin for a tiny bit longer than he should have. _Yep, definitely true._

Harry followed Draco's hungry gaze. _Why, oh why is this turning me on?!_ "And...what exactly are you going to do next?" he asked.

"This."

***

The kiss was desperate, hungry. Tongues clashed as Draco crushed his lips to Harry's, swallowing Harry's gasp. It was the kiss of Harry's dream, furious and dominating, enough to make lips bruise.

Draco pushed Harry hard against the wall, straddling his hips, one hand fisting in the chaotic black hair. Harry struggled. There were too many things to feel; it was like all his senses had gone into overload. He was suddenly painfully aware of the teeth on his bottom lip, demanding entrance to his mouth. With a feeble protest, he turned away from Draco's conquering lips.

"Malfoy, get off me!" Harry writhed.

"No." Draco smirked and ran his tongue along Harry's jaw line, nipping at his earlobe before plunging towards his pulse point, feeling his lips thrum against Harry's heartbeat. He was pleased to find it leap forwards in tempo.

"I...don't," Harry gasped, irritated at how easily his body was responding. With a jolt, he felt Draco's erection at his hip and wriggled under strong thighs, trying to prize Draco's hand from his chest. "Malfoy!"

Draco pulled backwards, that annoying grin still plastered to his face. His lips were slightly swollen and glistening wet, the setting sun highlighting his dappled cheeks. He sat back on his heels, but kept one hand teasing the hair at Harry's neck.

Harry felt a groan build in his throat and bit his lip to quell it. Dra-Malfoy did look positively _delicious_ in the sunlight, his eyes flashing grey-amber, narrowed and clouded with desire. _So what? He's always been attractive._ Harry glared up. Draco raised an eyebrow. In an instant, all Harry's objections disappeared. He shut his open mouth.

"I don't think...I don't..."

"Hush Harry, I want you, you want me, let yourself go," Draco murmured, his voice low. He pressed a long finger to Harry's lips. Harry's eyes widened and he stared down, revelling in the use of his first name – it sounded good in Draco's articulate voice. Draco shifted his position back on top of Harry's hips, silently pleased with the resulting reaction.

Harry growled, "Shit..." Draco smiled, his eyes glinting, and removed his finger. He traced the arc of Harry's lip, his own breathing becoming steadily laboured. Then, he leant forwards once more and placed a single kiss on Harry's chin, his eyes gazing up innocently. Harry groaned, his head falling back.

"I don't know what to think," he whispered, his voice annoyingly small. What in the hell was Draco Malfoy doing straddling him? And kissing...he hadn't been kissed like that in his whole life. His body reacted, shamefully – his cock was hard against his trousers, anxious to be touched. Thinking of the blonde, smirking infront of him, did nothing to help the situation. He shut his eyes.

"Harry." Draco's voice was low and husky. Harry felt another kiss at the corner of his lips, and then another on the other side. His brow furrowing, Draco shoved his hips forward. "Look at me, you git."

"Ah!" Harry gasped, his eyes flying open, electricity shooting to his groin. He whimpered. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"I'm getting your attention," Draco drawled, twisting Harry's hair around two fingers. "Your body is the only thing I can get a response out of." He thrust forward again. Harry's breathing faltered.

"Maybe, I'm finding this whole...thing...a tiny bit weird." Harry glared into Draco's eyes.

"To be honest, I don't much care," Draco smiled. _Come on Potter...get passionate. _Harry's lips curled and his glare deepened.

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't." Draco pouted, feigning sadness. He sniffed.

"Why wouldn't I care?" he asked, blinking his grey eyes. Harry stifled a smile. _Drama queen..._

"Because...because you're an imposing...selfish...arrogant..."

Draco laughed silently to himself. His plan was working and Potter was most definitely turned on. _And thus the tables turn. _He watched Harry as he recounted Draco's personality traits, his lips and tongue working to create words that Draco barely heard. They must've been sitting in the Astronomy Tower for atleast half an hour, but it wasn't going to end now. His eyelashes fluttering slightly, Draco inhaled Harry's scent, very masculine, heady and intoxicatingly sweet. The groan rumbled in his throat.

"Bloody-minded, unpleasant, obnoxious, up your own arse, completely oblivious to other people's feelings and _personal space_..."

"You forgot deliciously fuckable," Draco hissed, his eyes locked on Harry's. Such a look of need and lust clouded his gaze then that Harry gasped at the sight. Draco's teeth were clenched, a muscle in his jaw twitching with the strain, his left hand balled into a fist by his side, the other tight on Harry's neck. Deliberately slowly, Draco opened his pink mouth and ran his tongue over his dry lips.

Harry stared, his words dying in his throat. He swallowed thickly, trying to find something to say, do. Nothing came to him. The arousal he felt had been obvious before, but it was nothing compared to now. It was like a fire in his stomach, consuming the few shreds of pride he had left and screaming at him to _do something_. On cue, his erection hardened, painfully, threatening to throw him head first off the proverbial cliff without the slightest of touches. Draco must have felt it, for he blinked hard and inhaled. His eyes were mesmerising, a spectrum of emotions that Harry couldn't decipher. Without realising, Harry growled.

He shifted slightly under Draco's legs, the friction torturous, and leant closer, his hands on Draco's thick arms. Draco's pupils dilated. Harry breathed out, the air tickling Draco's wet lips, closed his eyes and kissed him.

Draco moaned in his throat and felt Harry smile into the kiss. It was slower and less frantic than before, but equally as passionate. Harry felt the fire roar in his stomach. He swept his tongue lightly over Draco's lips, which opened, granting Harry entry. They kissed for a moment until Draco pulled away, catching Harry's bottom lip in his teeth, watching as the green eyes widened. Harry looked upwards through his eyelashes. "For once, Malfoy," he hissed, "I agree with you."

"Harry..."

Harry smirked and continued, enunciating every consonant, "You're_ very _bloody-minded, incessantly unpleasant and utterly obnoxious, you've got a stick rammed up that round, pert arse, and you are _completely_ oblivious to other people's feelings and _personal space_..."

Draco whined, very quietly.

"But,_ as reluctant as I am to admit it_, you are absolutely, delectably, _mouth-wateringly_ fuckable."

With a wanton groan, Draco pounced forward, crashing their mouths together once more. Immediately, their tongues were tangled, fighting for dominance amid a bruising dissonance of teeth and spit. Hands roamed, trying to commit every tantalising inch of each other's body to memory. Harry pulled Draco closer with both hands on his arse, pressing their groins together in another bout of brilliant friction.

"I told you," Draco said after a minute, breaking away and sucking on Harry's neck, happy to feel his pulse leap forwards again. Harry opened his closed eyes in question. "I said you wanted me."

Harry thrust upwards harshly and Draco recoiled, his vision clouding for an instant, his eyes flashing dangerously. Snarling, he pulled his jumper over his head, then returned to Harry's jugular.

Harry's teeth looked pointed as he smirked, Draco feeling his laughter through the vibrations in his neck. Harry rolled his head to the side to grant better access as Draco licked his way to Harry's collarbone. "I'm not gay y'know," he murmured, revelling in whatever Draco was doing to his neck, while elbowing his way out of his robes, one hand groping through Draco's hair.

"Veritas fidem et honostatem praestat, Potter, remember that." Draco helped rip off Harry's school jumper, flinching slightly when their hands collided. Harry exhaled sharply in response, Draco plunging one hand past the cotton of the Hogwarts shirt and over Harry's abdomen, bringing Harry forward by the neck and meeting him for another kiss. He worked the knot in Harry's tie with two fingers and a thumb, bringing it whipping to the ground beside them, and then set about undoing the buttons of Harry's shirt, grinding his lips against Harry's all the while.

Harry wriggled under Draco's thighs, kicking off his shoes and pushing off his socks with each foot. Draco growled at the movement, lifting Harry from the wall by his collar, circling his neck with his arms and kissing him furiously, taking the opportunity to remove Harry's shirt and cast it aside with the rest of their clothing.

Harry reared upwards onto his knees, sucking on Draco's tongue, one hand getting rid of Draco's tie and the other holding his face, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. Draco sat back and they fell together, crashing into the stone floor, Harry on top. Draco's hands explored every tanned inch of Harry's bare torso, massaging the Quidditch honed muscles as Harry impatiently tried to undo Draco's shirt. Giving up, he grabbed the cotton and pulled, sending buttons clattering to the flagstones.

Draco opened his eyes and scowled, bringing one leg upwards and kneeing Harry in the groin. The larger boy rolled off Draco, groaning, his face screwed up.

"That was a custom made Armani Oxford shirt, Scarface." Draco was on top of Harry instantly, glaring. He rubbed his erection into Harry's thigh and kissed him fiercely, his teeth teasing Harry's lip. Harry scoffed.

"Ponce."

Draco's eyebrows quirked, he ground his hips downwards again. "I'm the ponce?" Harry bit his lip to stifle a moan, arching his back, desperate for some more friction. "Your cock says different."

"Cock-sucker."

"Faggot."

"You...you fucking pansy..."

Draco grinned.

Harry let his head fall back as Draco removed his belt, slipping the button through its hole and unzipping. He had never been so aroused in his entire life. Lifting his head slightly, he watched Draco's face, flushed, carved and beautiful, as he pulled Harry's trousers down his thighs. The grey eyes widened as they gazed upon Harry's underwear, a blonde eyebrow raised.

"Briefs, Potter? I never would have guessed..."

Harry lunged upwards for a kiss, Draco moaning as he was caught by surprise. Sitting up, Harry pulled Draco into his lap and pushed the ruined shirt from his shoulders, hissing at the sudden close proximity of their erections. Draco hooked two fingers under the waistband of Harry's pants as they kissed, pulling slightly, tickling the nest of dark curls with his fingernails. He pushed the material down, causing a tiny damp patch to appear as Harry's cock sprang free.

Draco broke the kiss and looked down. Harry's penis stood proud, jutting towards his stomach, long and thick and gorgeous. _Oh God... _He gasped. Harry moved his hips, pushing his underwear down to his knees. He kissed Draco again before pushing his head downwards. The blonde blinked at him.

"Draco..." Harry whispered.

Draco moved back so he could lean down more easily. Bracing his hands on Harry's thighs, he leant forwards, inhaling Harry's dizzying scent, glancing upwards to see Harry's eyes roll shut. He blew on Harry's tip, the cold air making Harry shiver and smiled at the reaction, tracing Harry's vein with one finger. From above him, he heard Harry grunt, but he didn't say anything. Torturously slowly, Draco licked up Harry's shaft in one long stroke, a drop of pre cum landing on his tongue; Harry was very close. Then, Draco felt a hand in his hair, gentle but firm. Harry stroked Draco's head, his eyes squeezed shut, the other hand clenched into a trembling fist by his side. Very close. Draco ran his fingers along Harry's thighs, who growled and thrust upwards impatiently. Chuckling, Draco leaned closer and took Harry's length into his mouth.

Harry sighed a mixture of profanities and Draco's name as the hot, wet mouth enveloped him. This made Draco laugh, sending vibrations shooting through Harry's cock. The hand in Draco's hair tightened, making more blonde strands fall into Draco's eyes. Draco looked up as he sucked, surprised to meet Harry's clouded gaze. His emerald eyes were unfocused. He tried to buck again, but was steadied by Draco's hand on his hip.

Licking and sucking, Draco took as much of Harry as he could into his eager mouth. As the length hit his throat, he gagged and Harry groaned. Very quickly, Draco fell into a steady rhythm, nipping the base and tip of Harry's erection as he bobbed his head up and down the shaft, his right hand covering the length he couldn't reach with his lips.

Watching Draco suck him was the most erotic thing Harry had ever seen and within minutes, he was moaning unabashedly, his fingers fumbling through Draco's silky hair. His cock felt like it would explode, the tingling he felt from Draco's teeth making his stomach leap.

"Dra...Draco, I'm gonna-"

And he did. Harry emptied himself into Draco's mouth, his head thrown back, groaning. Draco swallowed all that he could, the rest dribbling down his chin in white streams. Kneeling up, Draco crashed their lips together, Harry tasting himself on Draco's tongue.

"Merlin, Harry," hissed Draco, Harry kissing him feverishly. Harry's hands were all over, taking in the pale skin. Draco was slighter than Harry, but lean, with the body of a god.

Harry grunted angrily when his hands met the fabric of Draco's trousers. "Off," he growled. Draco pulled them down, kicking off his shoes and socks in the process, kissing Harry intermittently as he watched. Licking his lips as more alabaster flesh was revealed, Harry moaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck."

Draco grinned and looked at him. "Well of course. This isn't going to go away by itself." He pointed to the bulge in his boxers, Slytherin green. Harry smirked. "Oh Potter, your smirk is so Slytherin," Draco drawled, pulling Harry closer. Using wandless magic, Draco conjured a blanket so the floor wouldn't feel as cold, then he caught Harry's lips and dragged him downwards.

Harry groaned in anticipation, his cock already getting hard. He kissed Draco desperately, removing his boxers with one hand as Draco straddled his thighs. Resting his head against the soft fabric of the blanket, Harry braced himself. He'd never done anything like this before, he had no idea what to expect, or _do_ for that matter.

He watched as Draco slipped one finger into his mouth thoroughly coating it in saliva. Then, Draco touched the head of his own penis, using the pooling liquid to lubricate himself. Harry whimpered. Draco was long, thinner than him, pale with a pink head. A tiny part of his mind screamed that Draco Malfoy's manly parts should never and would never be attractive, but the thought died. It was too late now. Besides, he and his cock were fucking gorgeous!

Wrapped in his thoughts, Harry barely noticed Draco continue to prepare himself. Draco's index finger entered him suddenly and he yelped. He saw Draco's face with wide eyes, tight with desire and concentration, and caught his mercury gaze, making his cock harden considerably.

"Relax Harry," said Draco, voice restrained. He stroked Harry's inner thigh, probing his finger deeper before adding another and then a third. Harry tried, releasing his muscles. It helped.

Clenching his teeth, Draco lifted Harry's hips slightly, conjuring another blanket. Then, he leant down, kissing Harry chastely on the lips, before lining himself up to Harry's exposed entrance. He paused, looking for some sign of confirmation in Harry's face.

Harry met his gaze and nodded. With a soft sigh, Draco pushed into Harry.

"Shit..." The heat was overwhelming and Harry was so goddamned tight. Draco shifted more weight into his knees, stabling himself, trying desperately not to fuck Harry senseless. He stroked Harry's stomach, worried by the look of pain on his face. He felt Harry relax his muscles, his face softening.

"Draco," Harry hissed, his face still taut. He wiggled his hips. "Draco, move."

Draco didn't need any more invitation, pulling out and then thrusting in again. The pain flashed across Harry's face but he moaned. Draco thrust in again. Then again. Harry slowly opened his eyes, bringing a hand round to rest on Draco's arse, encouraging him to continue with a breathy moan. Thrusting steadily, Draco found a tolerable pace, not too fast for Harry to adjust, but fast enough that he wouldn't die of need.

Soon, Harry was keening, meeting Draco's thrusts with his own hips. His cock had hardened quickly, protruding towards the trail of dark hair on his stomach, his balls jolting with every push from Draco. Draco gritted his teeth and forced himself deeper, playing with Harry's scrotum with the fingers of his left hand. He used the other to lift Harry's right leg, placing it on his shoulder so to breach Harry further.

Harry gasped, drawing in more oxygen. Draco was so big inside him, so deep. Angling his thrusts, Draco hit Harry's prostate, sending a shiver down Harry's spine. "Fuck," he cried, seeing stars. He writhed, moving with the blonde between his thighs, bringing an anxious hand to his erection. It was swatted away by Draco, who growled, hitting that spot again.

"My job."

Harry whimpered. He felt the fire in his belly, threatening to consume him. His skin was burning, his chest heaving. Draco sped up, plunging into him mercilessly at a different angle, a smirk on his swollen lips. It occurred to Harry then that he was deliberately avoiding hitting his prostate again. Snarling, Harry tilted his hips, moving both legs to encircle Draco's waist, pulling him closer, forcing the head of his cock to crash into that spot inside him. The look Draco gave him was brilliant: a clashing mix of ireful anger, unadulterated lust and that scheming Slytherin smirk.

Harry groaned in triumph and pleasure as shudders ripped through him. Draco's hand whipped to his erection, pumping up and down in time to his agitated rhythm. He grinned as Harry writhed, getting more pleasure from the thought that he could undo the Gryffindor just as easily as he could undo him, than from the sex itself. Though the sex was good. _So_ good. He couldn't remember when he had last felt this alive. Draco's pace increased even more, pounding into Harry, moaning through his teeth with a stunning grin.

The sun disappeared behind the mountains, bathing the Astronomy Tower in a dusky light. All that could be heard was gratuitous moaning tearing from Harry's throat, Draco grunting as he pounded, thankful for his earlier Silencing Charm, not that he particularly cared if anyone heard them anymore. This was all that mattered: the beautiful boy beneath him, writhing and screaming his name.

Harry desperately tried not to scream, biting through his bottom lip so that blood trickled into his mouth. He couldn't help it. Draco hit his prostate over and over on every thrust, the speed becoming erratic as he started moaning wantonly, not knowing where to put his hands, Harry's fingernails surely scarring the perfect white shoulder blades.

"Ah, Harry!" Draco cried, pounding still, his world spinning and turning white, hot and sparkling and beautiful. "Harry!" His voice cracking, Draco lost the ability to think or speak coherently, instead crying out random strings of speech, a jumble of Harry's name and various swear words, as he hurtled over the precipice of his orgasm, riding Harry in a blaze of illogical rambling and white heat. He came hard, spilling into Harry's arse with such force that his head span and he gasped for air, shooting unrelenting ribbons of semen over the floor, himself and Harry.

As Harry felt Draco lose it, he did too. His eyes burned with the image of the stunning Slytherin, arching wildly and coming, crying out his name with a look of pure ecstasy etched into his face. Harry committed that image to his eternal memory. Wanking material for life. The world became a confusing blend of brilliant colour as he came, his seed spilling over his stomach and Draco's hand, hot and plentiful, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm. Harry rode it out, Draco's hand still pumping on his cock instinctively, shouting out one phrase. One phrase that meant much more than he had first thought, "Ah fuck! DRACO!"

***

Draco collapsed onto Harry, trembling, the muscles in his legs refusing to work. Their chests rose and fell together, their breathing slowly normalising. Slipping sideways and pulling out of Harry, Draco opened his eyes, looking up past Harry's broad shoulders. The Gryffindor had his eyes closed, his face plastered with a lopsided smile. He breathed one word, "Wow."

Laughing, Draco snuggled closer to Harry, who opened his arms and pulled the slighter boy against his side, wrapping one leg around his.

After some time just lying together, Draco cast a silent Cleaning spell and sat up, ignoring his creaking joints. Harry looked up at him, dazed, his dazzling eyes bright. "You were right about that Latin thing," Harry said softly, sitting up and shivering. It wasn't cold, it was early June, but his skin erupted into goosebumps all the same.

Draco smiled, picking up the blanket and draping it over Harry's shoulders. Harry started to smile but didn't. His brow furrowed. "What will happen now?" he asked, "with us..."

Draco's smile didn't fade. He moved closer to Harry and hugged his waist, briefly. "If you want me to walk away and pretend this never happened, then I will," he said simply, swallowing and pulling back. He watched Harry's frown grow deeper.

"No."

Draco's heart did a tiny leap.

"You were right Mal-_Draco_. All the stuff you said before is right." Harry pulled Draco back towards him, leaning forwards and kissing the pink lips. Draco caressed his cheek with his fingers, feeling the beginnings of stubble. "This feels right," Harry said, "In here..." He pressed Draco's hand to his chest. "I'm not sure why...or what will happen...and Merlin knows what everyone will say, but I know what I want, and this is it."

Draco kissed him tenderly, pulling the blanket around his shoulders to envelop the both of them. "So what the Weaselette said was true?" Draco asked, knowing the answer. He too was confused, he didn't know what was going to happen, but God knows he'd wanted Harry for so long...

Harry grinned, taking Draco's face in his hands and kissing him as he pulled the blanket tight around them. It was late, the grounds were falling underneath dusk's soft darkness, the little light there was left illuminating Hogwarts' many turrets, especially the Astronomy Tower, the tallest tower, Harry playing with Draco's silky strands of hair and making his eyes sparkle silver, his skin burn gold.

Draco smiled into Harry's mouth, running his tongue over the now familiar lips. _Yes_, he thought, _definitely true_.


End file.
